Final Destination: Trip of a Lifetime
by A. Zarko
Summary: The CEO of Funland Amusements has opened a new park, and she's constructed the monorail connecting the park with the loading platform. When the electronics of the monorail go haywire like 7 years ago, one of the passangers has an option of saving the people or leaving them on the monorail to die.
1. Prologue

It was true that Funland Amusement Incorporated was just a small name company, but the CEO dreamed big. She had visions to expand to all of the bigger name companies and make hers the most famous amusement park big-wig in the north side of the US. Her eyes were set for the construction of Funland Amusements in the bustling state of New York.

Funland Amusements, to give it a little background, started off small. It's first true unsuccessful failure ebded horribly. The main controls of the park were destroyed and the rides malfunctioned. To this day, there are reported to be approximately one thousand deaths, even if that number doesn't stand to the *one* that was earned that day of the disaster.

Robert S. Beck, son of the George S. Beck, was a fire fighter just like his father. His squadron was called to the park when the first fire broke out. When they got there, half of the rides overheated and were sent ablaze. The firetrucks multiplied but it was no effort. The rides caused casualty after casualty.

There were children burning on the carousel. Their young white skin came off their bodies without anything pulling it. Some of the teenagers on the log flume, being deranged and petrified, jumped out of the log when it at the top of the drop and fell down. Their bodies gave a gruesome smack as they hit the ground and their heads and necks bobbed. The few that stayed in the log went down the slope and were splashed as they should, but they were also electrocuted when the water hit the underlaying compartment in the log hiding the wiring.

That *one* that was mentioned earlier wasn't another casualty. Instead, it was the love of one to another. Kelly F. Powell watched in a panic as the park she created came crumbling down around her. She saw the log flume, the carousel, and the exit. She sprinted but was caught dead in her tracks when she noticed the ferris wheel tilting down at her. She was too scared to move; he legs felt like solid bricks. She saw the car labeled 13 inches from her as it came down; she even saw the faces of the children as their car hit the ground, then the blood.

She was still alive, and she had to get out. She lifted her right leg and stomped it down. She was struggling to stay upright and her time for escape was running thin. She lifted her left and limply stomped it down. Pain shot through her leg as she hit the floor. She turned around on the ground to see the Monster (it was an octopus with cars on each of its limbs) swinging rapidly. The legs rattled and the cart shot from the limb and to her direction. There was no way her luck could save her this time; she closed her eyes and waited for impact. Yet, there was nothin but tugging on the shoulders of her shirt. She looked up and saw the man in the fire fighter's outfit pulling her.

The cart hit where she was laying before the man saved her. He, with his helmet on, took her hand and lifted her up. As he placed her arm around his neck, he could feel the heat from the rides grow stronger with each second. Time felt like it slowed down as he lifted her legs up and sprinted towards the exit. It sped up as he put his foot past the sign and could hear the faint sounds of screaming behind him. He kept running until he reached the last truck and placed her gently onto the foot of the truck. He turned around and wathed in horror as the rest of his squadron were blown up in the last explosion. The faint screams and sobs subsided and only the crackle from the fire was left in the park.

"Thank you so much for saving me. I would have been a goner if you weren't there," she said softly as she looked to the ground. He turned around and stared for a good time at her.

"Well, just be glad I got there in time," he said softly and kneeled in front of her. He pulles out the handkerchief his father gave him from the glove department and handed it to her. She slowly took it and whimpered when she put pressure on her ankle. "Easy there." He hoisted her up into the truck's main seat and closed the door. He took one final look back before he walked around the truck and got it.

The incident was five years ago, and the officials are still unsure about what really happened that day. None have any ideas, but only Kelly believe it was the kid she hired to do the whole wiring for the park. The kid had a Ph.D in Engineering and Electronics; he was even chosen by the director of Funland Amusements before Kelly took over. The official's never found that kid, nor was the description of the kid ever looked into; all charges were dropped against Kelly, and she grew happy at first. Her joy quickly turned to anger against the one she thought was the *one*.

Robert payed off her bail in hopes she'd try to get to know him. Yet, she began to avoid him altogether in the beginning. He felt love when he saw her, and she did too, but she didn't let anyone know her true feelings. Though, he had his doubts about it, though. On the drive home from the accident, Kelly's heart pounded as she stared over at the fire fighter that saved her life. There was something that clicked in her mind that allowed her enough courage to ask for his name. He smiled as gave his and received hers.

Six years after the events of the first park, Kelly's head of Funland Amusement. Her first assignment was to create a new park. A year later and it's the grand opening of the new amusement park, one planned and constructed by Kelly herself. Many tabloids bashed her for her ignorance of the past and disrespect of the dead. It was thanks to her assistant that the tabloids stopped bashing her long enough for her to open the park successfully.


	2. Good, Bad, and Very Bad News

"This is just a quick heads up," a woman said as she opened the glass paneled door that read Powell, CEO. The woman had her brown eyes down on the paper as she headed in; she failed to notice Kelly standing behind the door, adjusting her red-dyed hair. The door pushed her forward softly; the high heels she wore made her unbalanced and she tumbled over the padded chair. The woman that opened the door closed it and stood there without noticing her boss slumped over the chair in front of her.

"I have good, bad, and very bad news. The good news is your park is scheduled to open tomorrow. The bad news is you have to cut to rope; the really bad news is you have to travel there by monorail," the woman said when she finally looked up. Her vision has always been blurred when she tried to see far distance even with the wide-rimmed glasses she wears at the bridge of her nose. She saw her boss, but her blurred vision made it look like she was standing up. "I have even better news: you're allowed to take one person, excluding me, with you to the opening. Which brings me to the other worse news: you're going to have to spend the trip with other people in the same car as you."

Kelly finally was able to pull herself up from the chair and she fixed her hair again. She, even more unbalanced than before, wobbled to her desk and sat down. She heard everything her assistant had said, but muttered to herself.

"Also, I have a meeting for you at Café Freizeit with the president of the labor contractor we hired. What was his name; oh, James Burleson. No, he's not the president; he's who we're talking to the president about. Apparently, we're going to have to give him a free weekend at AstroPast; we've worked him too hard and now the union is getting on our asses about it. If we don't take care of it, we're going to get sued and lose our company," the assistant rambled. The sun reflected off of her name and gave a reflection of her name; *Rosemarie L. Long*.

"Also," Rosemarie (nicknamed Rose by all her coworkers) started, "I need you to come with me to talk with Manuel about the wiring and costs of electricity that will power the park. If he's coming to a price way off, I say we fire him right there. He's that lazy technician that never gets any of his work done and he's always picking fights in the main lobby with some of the other workers here. That will be at about two and your meeting's at four; it's one twenty. Do you want to start heading down that way now?" Her boss nodded and stood up; she moved to the side, took off her glasses, and rubbed her eye. Those glasses never work in the offices, though she needed them on.

"Can you tell me again why we hired that baffling lunatic for technician?" Kelly asked. Her heels made an echoing *klick-klack* as she walked beside her assistant down the vacant hall.

"It's because his father was the old techy and we wanted to keep the family tradition going. That, or we'd be sued for a ridiculous reason. Knowing our luck, though, we'd be found guilty. He hired him for the sake of the company, I guess," Rose remarked with a shrug. There wasn't much of a better answer.

"Oh, and as for the person I can invite; can it be anyone, or does it have to be a be a coworker?" Kelly asked quickly, then sighed and continued, "If it's anyone, send an email to Beck for me. I want to know if he wants to go or if I'm going to have to ask that fat reporter stalking the halls anymore. Isn't Adkins supposed to be on?"

"No, remember? You fired him and he got a real job at the police force. I say he actually got the good end of the deal, because now he's able to support his old family with child care bills and that. Though, we're rehiring him for the park. We will need more security than what we have at the moment. He'll be coming with us on the monorail when we travel," Rose said and suddenly stopped. Her boss stopped too, but her ankle almost gave in. The pain shot through her leg and up her body. It was that of almost 7-

"Here we are, the geek layer," she said sarcastically. She even had to roll her eyes when she said geek; she felt like Manuel (Manny by nickname) was wasting his life playing those games and reading those stories. The only times he ever comes out of his layer are when he needs the restroom, wants to pick a fight, or when he needs something to eat. To Rose, Manny looked like the kind of animal he was: a filthy low-life rat.

The way his whiskers reflected the light from the computer screen to the way he walked. He mirrored a lab rat down to even what he eats. He would always say that what and the way he eats is because of his parents and his doctor. His voice is even a scratchy and squeaky sort. Everyone laughs at the office party when he finally exits his domain and gets drunk; he can't stand on his own two feet as it is.

Kelly slowly opened the door (which read B. Walker) to the technical support room (Manny turned it into his layer). Her eyes saw only darkness but then the small outline of shelves came into view. She and her assistant quietly trekked into the darkness and around the tall cabinet with the equipment for audio, visual, and SFX.

"Oh, Rose, can you go and get me an appointment with my chiropractor? I really need to see him for my ankle," quietly she said. Her assistant wrote down the reason and nodded, and she headed out the door. Alone, Kelly continued down the long rows of cabinets until she saw the flickering light on the other side of the room. "Manny," she said quietly at first. She continued to call his name louder; she didn't want to go any further into the room than she wanted to.

Hearing no response, she sighed to herself and took a step closer to the light. The echo of her heel sent a shiver down her spine. She took another step and then another until she finally reached the, for what she could see, blue light. She looked down at the different game systems connected to each of the TVs surrounding the young adult in front of her.

His eyes were glued to the screens and his fingers raced and jabbed at the buttons on the controller. It was hour five in the competition and there was no way Manny was going to quit now. Only two contestants remained anyway: Him and a girl by the name of Bessie Campos (Gamer Tag: CamposCampingFTW). Not once in Manny's simple yet pathetic life has he lost a game to a girl.

The game was simple. You control an army and you must take out the other people's army. Sounding like Risk, right? Only, in this game, there's one major difference: if you lose, you lose your Gamer Tag (We'll call it a GT to make it easier). All the progress you would make on that GT would be gone within an instance and you'd have to make a new one. How could this happen? The game is run by and underground group of hackers; Manny is one of the leaders of the group.

The match was heated up from the start. There was already a large advantage for Bessie when Manny's original base was eliminated. Despite the offset, Manny pushed and set up a new base while taking out one of hers. The eliminating, rebuilding, and re-eliminating went on and on between the two. That one match lasted those five hours, but Manny was starting to slip and the blasts rang in her ears; the voice ringed in his ears too when the headphones came off. His fingers skipped a button and the robot onscreen blew up into a thousand pieces. The words read on the TV in dark blood text: "You have Died. Game Over." It was over for the competition.

"Manny! Can you hear me?!" Kelly said into Manny's left ear. He shot to the right and hit a pile of cases for the different games he bought. "Good. Listen, I need you to do something for me. You hav-

"No!" Manny cried. His voice cracked again and his fists clenched. "You don't realize what you did! Do you? Of course not! I need to get back to level twenty now because of you. I hope you're happy with yourself."

"Oh, I'm very pleased because now I'm on the verge of firing you for not doin your job," Kelly started with a smirk. "Clear out all the shit you have in here and get ready for the trip over to AstroPark. You can become like Astro Man or Mega Boy, or whatever their names are. We're heading out tomorrow, Tuesday, at seven. Understand? Tomorrow, seven, or you're fired."

"You know what 'Ms. Wannabe-Company-Ruler-Or-Something', I'm beginnin to think you love to make my life a living hell. You're always nagging me to do something or not do something again. You're goin back and forth with yourself, and you're always collapsing. To be honest, I hope you do fire me as I'm quitting after this stupid job. Understand?" Manny finished and glared up at his boss squatting in front of him. She was stunned; she's never been talked back to, not even by someone as low life as Manny.

"Yeah, I understand, loud and clear. Uhm, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then on the monorail," Kelly spoke softly as she stood up and turned her back to the tech. He just snuffed and grunted. He's disgusted that he would lost his awards and achievements, and the fact he's got to admit he lost to a girl.

Kelly followed the isles again and found her way to the door. She opened it and was nearly blinded by the lighting in the hall. She's never noticed how bright they were before. She closed her eyes and turned left down were she once came. A palm on her chest stopped her and she opened her eyes to see her assistant.

"Alright, so more good, bad, and very bad news. Good news is that your love said yes to the invite. We'll have to pick him up before we come here; it's the only way he can go on the trip with us. The bad news is that the chiropractor was booked until Wednesday, but I managed to get you an appointment at two twenty on the dot. If you're unable to make it, let me know now and I'll change it," Rose said quickly. Her lips moved faster than what her boss could comprehend.

"What about the very bad news? What is it?" She asked and noticed the wall clock's large hand touch the ten and the small hand touch the four. "Oh, shit, how did I become late?"

"That's what I was going to ask you," Rose started as she shuffled down the hall. Her boss trailed behind her as they soon reached the front doors in half the time remaining. "I took the liberty of packing your things and have them inside your car already. You just have to get there." She smiled and opened the doors for her boss. The latter thanked her and she nodded in agreement. She watched her boss head for her car and waited until she was in the red Mustang Convertible before closing the doors.

**By the way, as I'm uploading this now, I'm also going to get surgery done tomorrow and I won't be back until next Wednesday.**


	3. The Meeting

The Mustang raced down Winchester Street and turned left onto Main Street. The people's faces blurred and the stores flew by as the engines roared. Time was ticking by slowly; only two minutes left and she's still five blocks away. She pressed down on the gas pedal and louder the engines roared. On the right, she could see the numerous places that occupied the streets. The quint shopping store, the electronics, and the measly little karate place run by a man by the name of Paul.

Paul owned a small place aside the other name-brand stores. Campos Dojo read overtop the entrance. The brick walls laying on the outside held many colors; red, brown, and moss-green. The dojo was getting old just like its founder. He's almost fifty-seven, and he had a dream. His dream was to own a dojo like this with his wife. He accomplished his dream but his wife died close to the opening of the dojo; nearly twenty-three years ago. He still holds onto her memory and their daughter close.

His daughter is a senior in the University of New York and is graduating with the PhD in Engineering. Paul and his wife decided to call her Bessie after the first animal they got on the farm they owned together. Nancy, Paul's wife, was a farmer's daughter who decided to go against her old man and marry who she loved yet her father hated.

Live was rough for the two in the first year of marriage. They fell into a deep depression and barely made it above the poverty line. Nancy had to resort to prostitution to pay the bills. It was the fifth night that she was gone when Paul got the news; his wife was forced into submission by her payer. She was admitted into the hospital for major internal lacerations and hemorrhaging with many broken ribs.

It was in that hospital visit that they learn she was pregnant with Paul's child. Seven months later, she's in labor but the injuries never fully healed. When she pushed, the fractured ribs never taken out by the doctors during the surgery punctured her lungs and then her heart. The child was delivered successfully, but Nancy loss too much blood and was pronounced dead on the spot. Paul held his newborn daughter in his hands and tears trailed down his cheeks.

Twenty three years later (even though it felt like yesterday to Paul) and Bessie is on her way to the real world. She had gotten her own apartment and gotten a job working at the local GameStop. She gotten her own game system and gotten her own Gamer Tag: CamposCampingFTW. She even gotten a free trip from her father to the new park opening up, but she doesn't want to go to, in her opinion, something as childish as that.

Horns honked as Kelly nearly drifted into the next lane; she must have spaced out when she saw the old dojo. She swerved to miss the car and drove back into her own lane and continued down. She had less than a minute to get to the meeting and she was still two blocks away. She pushed the gas pedal down more and the engine roared louder. The Mustang raced down the barren street with easy and drifted around the corner swiftly and then another. She pulled back on the gas and entered the parking spot on the right. She got out, grabbed her stuff, and ran to the door. As she opened it, she heard the familiar screech of the F150 against the pavement.

The president was having a hard day. He was forced to file multiple paper works to prevent lawsuit and insurance frauds on Mr. James Burleson. James was an honest man despite all of the rumors of his frauds. He has a loving family six feet under the ground, a below minimum wage paying job, and a rundown shitty shack with the walls lined with eviction notices he can return to late at night. What else could James ask for?

The door of the F150 opened up and out stepped a polished black shoe and a tan pant leg. Another set followed and the red dress shirt made the last appearance. Above the shirt was the face of a scraggly looking man. He rose his dirtied and stained hand and placed it on the car door. He pushed it closed and looked over at the entrance; he smiled when he saw Kelly. He took a wobbly step forward then another.

"Ms. Powell, is it?" The man asked and she nodded. "My name is James A. Burleson, ma'am. I was sent in the place of the president to talk with you about my vacation." He hopped up on the curb and took off the dusty cap he had on his head. He held it close to his body, allowing the sun bounce off of the hairless patches he had.

"Ah, welcome, Mr. Burleson. Come, we have lots to talk about." She responded without looking at the man behind her. He sighed to himself and followed her inside the restaurant. The sign on the right, for the best James could comprehend, read "Seat Yourself"; he stood at the entrance and waited for one of the employees before Kelly lightly (and with a tissue) grabbed his shoulder and pulled him over to the table she grabbed. She sat him down and then sat herself.

"Mr. Burleson, could tell me what happened to you that day when you got injured? Please?" Kelly asked politely as she placed the white napkin on her lap. James stared at her before nodding. He cleared his throat and spoke.

"Well, for what I can remember, and how they described it, I was mining like I usually was. Then I got a call from my friend in the main office, so I took a break to answer the phone. 'Stop and come home,' he said, 'there will be something happening that will hurt you,' he said," he cleared his throat again, beginning to sweat. "Ah, Miss, can you understand what I'm saying? You see, I was never schooled and I only know to speak from the other miners. They are great fellows; they taught me everything I know."

"Don't worry, sir, I can understand you very well." She said softly as she gently bit her tongue. She was right when she thought he didn't go to school. Someone so unkempt as him definitely couldn't go to school; there she goes basing everything she thinks on stereotypes.

"Ah, good. Alright, so I ignored his warning. I went back down the tunnel and started picking the walls of the tunnel for this big train-connector-thing. I haven't learned the word for that yet," he said with a laugh. He lightly reached over to tap her shoulder but she moved back quickly. "What's wrong, miss? Don't like being touched? I'm sorry, I won't try it again. Back to how I got this nasty lump on my head. I didn't learn the other guys as this large piece of rock, I don't know what type of rock it was, came down and got me good on my noggin. They aren't 'llowing me back into the tunnel 'til I get better, or 'til Wednesday."

"Wait, when did this happen? It seems rather early to allow you back in two days," Kelly started but her words trailed off.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It happened last Thursday. They are just 'llowing me out of my bed today as the president is busy with my paperwork still. He was on a trip that Thursday to Sunday, so he just got the papers today," he said. He looked down to floor then back up at her. "What was I working on? I mean, that train-connector-thing."

"I think," she started then stopped. She gathered her thoughts then continued, "I think it was for my park. It's called a monorail, and it's definitely like a train. If I knew it'd hurt you, I wouldn't have asked to have it built. I'm so sorry." Tears gathered in her eyes but she wiped them quickly. She stood up and smiled.

"Well, it was nice to have this cup of coffee with you." She said and picked up the empty cup and put her lips against it. She pretended to drink and then set it down. "Now let's go, I wanna buy you something for your troubles."

"Oh, ma'am, you must not. I don't need anything more than being able to get back into the tunnels," he said and reassured her with a smile. She shook her head and lead him out of the restaurant. They continued to the right and entered the store.

Back at the restaurant, a man who sat at the table next to the two shook his head and jotted down notes inside his small yellow pocket notebook. "Possible interview with one James Burleson on Monday the 10th of March in the year 2014. Quickly interrupted by interviewer pulling the other out of the restaurant before buying anything," he said aloud and continued, "Ms. Powell is possibly buying out Mr. Burleson so she doesn't have to give him free admission to the park that is opening up tomorrow. By, of course, I, Leonard Bost."

He looked around and saw a group of young adults being thrown out. He stood up and followed them. He reached the door way when he saw the previous two leaving the electronic store. He followed them around the corner to the Mega-Mart just past the dojo. This was going to be the biggest break of his life; if he could get the scoop, that is.


	4. Tickets to a Death

"But dad! I don't want to go to something as childish as that park! If you really want to celebrate my birthday take me to one of those bigger parks like Disney or Universal; AstroLame doesn't suit me at all," a girl no older than the mid-twenties said. She stared the man in front then flipped her hair. She hated children parks ever since hearing about the park seven years ago. The girl's father had passes for them to go, but he grow too sick to travel to the park. He went to the doctors at the same time they would have been at the park for a small flu-like infection.

"Oh, come now, dear. I want to celebrate your birthday and make up for that old trip we missed, remember?" The man asked and she nodded with a grunt. "I know it's not something you like to talk about, but I really want to make it up to you; I want to take you to the grand opening of the park of your childhood."

"If you want to make it up, then take to me a rave and wait outside, because I'm not going to that damn park!" The girl screamed at the man and stormed off. He sighed and felt the tickets in his pocket; he remembered when she wasn't as spoiled as she is now. It must have been that trip to the eighth grade formal she went to that changed her, and that damn Chris McKormic.

"That little brat," the man started thinking aloud, "changed my girl when he agreed to date her. I sometimes wish I.. wish I was there to save her from his evil." The man stood in silence and sighed again; he had to get rid of the tickets now, there's no way his little girl would agree now. He stood straight up, angered, and reached for his hat from the table next to him. He placed it on and grabbed his car keys from the small dish on the stool next to the door. He opened the door and slammed it close as he, too, stormed off towards an unknown destination.

* * *

"Hey, dad, what are you getting me for my graduation?" Bessie asked as she stood in the doorway to the office of the dojo. "There's this new park opening tomorrow, and I know you love spending time with me at these kinds of parks; why don't we go there for my graduation?" He looked up at her from the bills and frowned; she knew that frown all too well.

"I'm sorry, Bessie, but it's not like I don't want to go; it's that we can't afford too. We're lucky to not have to pay for your education; we would have to if it weren't for your brilliant mind," Paul said as he drew her head in and rubbed it with his knuckles. He released her and then sighed. "We're at an all time low for subscriptions and I'm afraid we're not going to have enough to buy food. Say," he moved to the edge of the chair and smiled. The dark black hair covering his blue eyes shifted to the right and he saw his daughter's green eyes staring up at him. "If you can get tickets for the opening of the park, we'll go. Sound like a deal?

Although destroyed by that, Bessie smiled and nodded. "Alright, dad. I'll definitely get those tickets now!" She tightly closed her hands and smiled more. She turned and the red hair followed her movement. She ran out of the room and left her father alone with the bills.

* * *

The man continued down the street. Thoughts about his daughter and that demon filled his mind and blocked all the other senses from working properly. He saw a stone and kicked it down the sidewalk, then walked up to it again and kicked it. He repeated the process until he arrived at the intersection. He put his hands into his pockets and felt the tickets' ridged edges; so much effort for nothing. He was pissed off, sure, very pissed; he was pissed off at the demon though and what his angel has become.

"Watch it, you fucking shit!" A driver yelled at the man. The latter didn't even notice he continued into the walkway and stood in the middle of the left lane. The man continued forward until he was safely halfway in the middle of the walkway. He wiped his eyes; his vision became blurry from the tears streaming down his face.

"What's wrong, mister?" A young voice asked. The man removed his hands and looked around. As he began to think he had just heard it, a small tug on his pant leg made him look down. He saw a little boy no older than seven standing next to him. "Why are you crying?"

"Oh, it's nothing, kid. I'm just upset, that's all. As for you, why are you all alone? Where are your parents?" The man asked as he rested one knee on the pavement.

"They left me on the corner. Daddy doesn't want me, and mommy hates me," the little boy began and looked to the corner, "they said 'to go find a new family', but I don't want a new mommy and daddy. I want my old mommy and daddy." Tears swelled up in the boy's eyes and he gently grabbed the man. "I want my loving mommy and daddy."

"Alright, son, calm down," the man gently pushed the boy from him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue. The boy quickly grabbed it and wiped his eyes like his mother used to. "How about we go and get you to the police so they can help you find the parents that left you? We could also get you ice cream on the way."

"Thank you mister!" The boy exclaimed and grabbed the man's hand. The man stood and started to lead the boy to the other sidewalk. He continued and turned left, knowing the route all too well; the police station was only two blocks away.

* * *

Bessie continued down the street with no intentions of a specific destination. She was, however, determined to get those tickets for her father. She passed by the electronic store next to the dojo and continued past the Mega-Mart. She passed a man as he held a child's hand, a woman who pushed a stroller, and many other small time citizens she's seen all through her trips around town.

She turned right and continued down the street; she was met then with a four-way intersection at the middle of the original road. She looked left then right and left again; she walked forward one step then another but stopped immediately when she felt the breeze of a black SUV speeding by. The car whizzed to the left and up the road she had already come down. Seeing no other cars, she continued to the middle of the cross walk and looked down.

At her feet were two ivory and golden tickets, both all access passes for the new theme park opening up in a day. She looked up and then around; there was no one around that she could see. She bent down and picked them up cheerfully and ran back up the street and to the left; her last destination was to the dojo and eventually to the park with joy and life.

* * *

The man with the child faced the intersection before them and gulped. There was the police station, at the other side of the cross walk. The little boy let go of the man's hand and started running across the cross walk, ignoring all the shouts from the man. At the other end of the intersect, a black SUV with a drunken driver dared the red light and continued.

The man, as he saw the SUV, ran forward and pushed the boy of the way. His body went into a shock as the bumper pushed the man forward past the cross walk and onto the pavement. The man fell on his back and felt the pain surge through his body as he felt the first set of wheels crush his internal organs. He didn't feel the second set, hell, he didn't even feel the ground. His were fading to black but the silhouette of the child made him smile before it all went to black.

* * *

Inside the police station, one of the officers saw the collision and alerted the rest of the team. The officer that saw the collision and one standing in the main foyer rushed out to investigate. The second officer nearly heaved when he saw the flattened abdominal of the man of the ground. He ran back in and grabbed the phone of the wall. He dialed the only number he knew by heart.

"Hello, this Adkins, go ahead." The voice on the other end said.

"I need you to come down here right away, sir! There's been a hit-and-run right out front of the station!" The officer said.

"Stay put, I'll be right away." Adkins said and hung up the phone. He stood from his desk, his stomach nearly got stuck under the desk. He grabbed his hat and headed out his office door. He looked back at it and read to himself softly. 'William Adkins'.

His feet pounded the steps as he flew down the stairs in the right-wing. He pushed himself to get to the crime scene without stopping to catch his breath, but those inhalers always crept up on him. He stopped halfway on the first floor and reached for his back pocket; he felt around, but he felt nothing there. He remembered it suddenly: he had left the inhaler on the corner of his desk. It was too late to get it now, he would just have to go to the crime scene without it. He pushed forward and turned left; there, he then met officer that called him.

"Thank god you made it in time. The body's right outside and it's really flattened. I'm sure the kid was in disbelief or something when he saw the man get hit." The officer said. Adkins nodded (though he slightly ignored the officer's words) and proceeded toward the glass double doors. He pulled them towards him and stepped out. His nose filled with the smell of blood; he knew the smell too well.

He turned back to the officer and said: "Make sure you call Blackstock too, we're going to need him to investigate." Adkins closed the doors and looked at the body. The man was an older man, in his late forties and already graying. Adkins squat down and felt the pockets of the man. He felt the bulge and pulled out the man's wallet. Inside was his driver's license (Andrew Gregson, forty-seven, lived over on Elm Drive) and a photo of the daughter from her childhood.

"Sir," the officer from before said, "I alerted Blackstock and he'll be on his way."

"Good," Adkins said slowly as he stood up and turned to the officer. "Find out who this women is for me, please? Make sure you get Blackstock to talk to her. I will not be able to, as I'm being forced to work at that new park. Good luck on this case, alright Officer Moon?"

Moon scrambled to salute his commander and squeaked out: "Ye-yes sir!" Adkins smiled and patted the officer's shoulder before walking back inside the precinct.


	5. Nightfall

"Is there anything else you would like, Mr. Burleson?" Kelly asked as she looked over at James trying on a new suit jacket. It was black with red interior, but it was almost ready to rip at the shoulders. "Yeah, let me get you the next size up. I'll be right back, alright?"

James nodded and looked into the mirror. He could see Kelly get smaller in the mirror on his left, and another man get larger on his right. He turned and was face to face with the other man. The latter extended his hand with a small business card that James took. He nodded and turned back, and then he started to walk the way he came. James watched, confused, but turned back to the mirror and saw Kelly getting larger again. She was holding a hanger with a red suit jacket and black interior.

"This was all they had in the next size up," she started, "if you don't want it, I'll take it back and try to find something else, something more suiting, in your size."

James shook his head and said into the mirror: "Oh, come now Ms. Powell. I'm not one to make a big fuss out of simple matters like that. If you think it looks good, then I will accept it. You know, you don't even need to do this. It was my fault about why it happened. I was being my usual self and ignored all warnings."

"Mr. Burleson, you must know, I take pride into the people I hire," she said with a smile, "and I often times want to give them a Thank You gift for their efforts. This is yet a small price to pay for your efforts, alright?" She asked as she held up the hanger to James' back. "This looks like a perfect fit."

"Indeed, ma'am," James started then looked at the card. "Leonard H. Bost," he said to himself; he thought to himself, at least.

"Mr. Burleson, why did you say that name?" Kelly asked, shocked. She hated him and felt like that name was the devil's call. "What are you reading? Please, give me that card." James obeyed and handed the card over his shoulder. "Listen to me, never ever listen to that man. He does not believe in God, yet he believes I'm the devil out to do evil. Trust me, he will find a way to hate you too once you give him the information he needs."

* * *

The man gave James his business card and walked away. He knew the miner was the curious type and that he would be called for questions. "Who are you?" Simple: a man with a dream to quest for the truth and a want to stop all the biased news reporters out there. "Why did you give me this card?" For one purpose and one only: to find the truth about Powell and expose her for her corruption. She is the scum of Funland Amusements and she is unable to properly run an amusement park if she tried. "How can I help?" Go out and gain her trust, which he already has,

The man exited the store and went back up the street. His printing shop was just up the street, and he had enough photos to get ready. He had to stop, though, when he saw the flashing lights up the street. Those lights had the colors he knew too well: Red and Blue.

_"I don't care if my press is too loud, I need to make a living somehow, don't I? I even have a right to own this thing! Wanna see my paperwork for it to belong here? I'll bring them right to you!" The man, younger than now, yelled at the officer before him. The officer just shook his head and chest; the badge shined and only Adkins could be read._

_"Look, Mr. Bost, I don't care if you have paperwork to own it, don't use it late at night like you were," Adkins said slowly, like he want to insult Bost's comprehension abilities, "I have complaints from all the tenants in the building that say they can't sleep at all. If possible, please, use the press during the day. Thank you, and have a nice day." He tipped his hat and bounced once on his heels; his stomach didn't bounce (as it is smaller than it is now). He turned around when he felt water on his neck._

_Bost spit at the cop before him and slammed the door. He went into the backroom and turned on the press, and he ignored the pounds at the door. This was his machine, for god's sake, and he isn't going to listen to donut eater and not use it when he needs to. Let's just say, for hopes of a bloodless description, that Bost's actions caused him into a jail cell, multiple stitches and a large fine._

Bost's better interests won him over and he clenched the camera around his neck. He took a few steps before he began to sprint down the street towards the lights. He stops before he got to the accident and hid in the alleyway just before the intersection and watched the scene. He saw the multiple suited pigs and the sheeted body in the middle of the street.

He waited until there were no more pigs in suits around the body before he made his way over to the body and uncovered the face. He's seen that guy around, but never really took note of who he was. It's such a shame to see another person die without a proper cause.

He raised his camera and clicked the shutters closed. The click attracted the man in the doorway, whom just stared and smirked. "Long time no see, Mr. Bost," he said and the addressed turned his head in the direction the call came from. "I see you've gotten better with that camera of yours."

"I see you've gotten better at stuffing those donuts in your mouth, Adkins," Bost said mockingly. Adkins shook his head like so many years ago. "How did he die? Being run over by a car or your stomach?" Bost laughed and so did Moon, whom stood behind the photographer

"That's a good one, Mr. Bost, was it? Want to hear a better one?" Moon asked the photographer, whom looked up and nodded. He quickly snatched the camera and tossed it to the approaching officer next to him. "You and one thousand dollars- oh, that wasn't the right pairing of words."

"One thousand?! That's how much that camera cost!" Bost exclaimed and threw himself at the officer holding his camera. He grabbed it but dropped it from the officer's hands. The camera fell and exploded into a million pieces, each scattering in every direction. "You... I'm going to sue you for that!"

"I'm sorry, but there's no proof and no witnesses to verify your statements. Looks like you don't have to pay your fines though," Moon said mockingly. Bost looked him in the eyes of Moon and the other officer, then he turned his head to the empty doorway. Adkins had left the scene and only left the two officers and Bost, which the latter stormed off from the amount of laughter from the other two. He looked off to the horizon and saw the sun resting its last eyes.

* * *

Night is a peaceful time, except for those daring the time of the devil. The owl's hoot and crickets chirp as a warning of danger for those dumb enough to run the streets after the locking doors. Yet, when you're as drunk as a sailor man after a night out with a group of friends, you're willing to do the dangerous.

It wasn't unusual to see a drink inside of the returning home sailor. He was a busy man and anything that does go right pisses him off, especially if it's the most trivial piece of information. Tonight was no different, with how tomorrow was the opening of the new park and his kids just had to go to damn thing- no, no, must not put words in his mouth. His loves his kids and his wife even more than his life at sea, but his father and his father's father were both sailor men. He just had to live up their expectations; he honestly had to, or face the disappointment in his pap when he crosses to the afterlife.

"David!" One of the other sailors from the table across the place yelled. Night had just fallen and David was going for a drink with his friends. He walked past the jukebox and the bartender holding two martinis in front of him. He sat down at the seat across the sailor whom called him.

"How have ya been? I heard your family is forcing you to that park tomorrow," the sailor added. David nodded silently and the table busted out laughing.

"Hey, don't worry. I was forcing your mom last night, so it's not a big deal, eh?" David responded and the roars of the table grew. The other sailor glared yet laughed it off shallowly. "Nevermind that! We're supposed to have fun tonight and be carefree until Wednesday, so let's drink up!" He grabbed the beer bottle next to him that belonged to the sailor who already left and raised it up. The other sailors raised theirs. "Cheers!"

Caps, beer bottles, and sailors flew by as time sped up. A sailor without a cap decided to fight with David after the latter gently brushed his arm. The capless sailor threw a right hook to which David stepped back and grabbed the arm in front of him. He pulled it down and pushed the sailor to the table; part of it broke and the face of the sailor had both splinters and fallen straight to the floor.

It was then that the owner of the bar had enough. He ordered them all out; all but David got into their cars and crashed into each other. David, just living a block or two away from the bar (he couldn't remember exactly how far) and decided to walk from home and back. He walked past the precinct and turned right, continuing past the dojo and right again until he reached the restaurant. He made a left turn and walked into the apartment building just across the street from the restaurant.

He grabbed the railing and climbed the stairs; his apartment was on the second floor and to the left. He opened the door and smelled the familiar smell of his wife's favorite dinner. It was something about his wife that sobered himself before anything else did.

"Honey!" His wife said and threw her arms around his neck. His wrapped his arms around her waist. She started to pull him to the couch while she said: "I missed you all night. The kids are in bed and I've waited on the couch for you to come home." She sat him on the couch and then sat herself down. "Tonight, it's just us. What do you want to do?"

He stared at her for a good half a minute before he mouthed the word, "Sleep," and stood up. He walked past the edge of the couch and to the bedroom. His wife followed him and closed the door behind her.


	6. Night to Morning

Night is a peaceful time, unless, of course, you're either a demon or a fool. Only a fool with a demon as a friend would ever dare venture out in the quaint suburb area full of Bohemians willing to do anything for a quick buck. A beggar, the fool in the story, and a fighter pilot, the demon; both poor and wanting of a life outside of the town, or quite frankly, a life besides theirs now.

In a quiet alleyway with only a flickering light overhead, the only source of light until the end of the alleyway to both sides, the sounds of TV's that blared from the upper apartments. Nothing is in the alleyway, nothing living that is, until a black and white stray pranced into the alleyway with its captured prize. Unbeknown to the cat, there, behind it, stands a man over looming the cat with his hands outstretched and knees bend. He's ready to get his keys back from the little shit that stole them, for his life or the cat's, one of them will go down in a blaze of glory and the other will wither as the winner lay dust unto the other.

One step, then two, the man pounces on the cat. The cat spun its head to the direction the man came from and barely jumped out of the way in time; it jumped upon the dumpster as the man scurried back to his feet and pounced again. This time, he managed to grab the cat by its tail and pull it toward him. The cat screeched and hissed as it swatted at the man to let go, but the man kept his grip strong and unwavering. The light above went out and the man couldn't see, but he held the cat's tail like he could see; the lights came back on but the cat no longer had the man's keys. The keys, as they dropped when the light went out, lay at the base of the dumpster in a puddle of murky water.

The man reached down as he let the tail go; the cat followed his hand and jumped down for the keys. The cat, however, was too slow and the man took back his keys; the man swung the keys in a taunting manner and retracted them when the cat's paws sprung forward.

"Sorry, Mr. Cat, but you're not outwitting Friend, my friend," the man said and pulled on the collar of the bomber jacket he had on, "and that's a promise, scout's honor!" He smirked and took off out of the alleyway and down the street to the right. He would have to make it up to his date, tonight, and there was only one good way to for him.

He continued down the street, half sprinting and half strolling, too preoccupied to notice the lighter illuminating to his left. The lighter shone upon small, nimble fingers and a smooth, small chin leading up to sulky blue eyes. The eyes followed the man until he was out of view; the body moved forward and the moonlight gave a tranquil yet darkening glow to the woman's body as she watched the man continue down the street. She threw the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under her feet; there was no reason she smoked, she hated the taste of the nicotine, but just the sight of a cigarette in her mouth was enough to allow her to hold it there.

She walked the same route as, just at a lesser pace, for she knew exactly where he was going; the two are neighbors, after all. Edward Friend, as she recalls, lived in 26-B on second floor of the apartment buildings, while she lived in the room just next to his: 25-B. Early morning commute allowed for brief conversation, but Edward was always in a rush to get to wherever he was going; she did not know where, but she wished he had the time to talk to her. There was something about the first conversation that struck her interest in him, despite her knowing of his minimal thought of her.

He reached his apartment block and looked around to see not a soul around. His date left him, obviously, because he stood her up; it took him nearly an hour to get the keys back from the feline and she grew tired of waiting in the nightly weather. March and still colder than winter; the members of the apartments never had heat in the winter nor AC in the summer. Some living there call it the life of the Bohemians, while others call it a shit hole; it's the best they could afford though. Most of the inhabitants of the apartment block are either unemployed or disabled. The landlord would care less whether they live or die, just as long as they pay their rent.

Sorrowful, Edward opened the door to the apartment and stepped inside; he almost completely closed it when his neighbor put her foot in the door so she could get in. He ignored her and turned to the stairs, slouching as he climbed; she was on his tail the way up to their apartments. He stops suddenly and turned toward her; he lifted his finger and drove it, gently the first time but harder the second, into her chest.

"Why are you following me?" He said, driving his finger once more; he continued immediately: "I saw you trial me the way from the corner of Main to here. I know you're my "neighbor", but you don't need to follow me all the time like you do. Wait, let me guess, you locked your keys in your apartment, didn't you?" She nodded and he sighed, extending his arm to the right. His hand touched the knob and he turned it; the door opened by itself and he walked in. Even though she had dreamed of going into another person's apartment, it was the first time she had gotten even close enough to a guy's door for whom she actually liked.

"Have a seat," he said, "make yourself at home." She looked over at the single chair he has positioned facing the TV and back him. "Go on then, I have to cook dinner from myself. Do you want anything? I have frozen dinners that I can just put in the oven real quick. No? Suit yourself." He went out of her view; she went and sat in the single chair and saw him again.

He stood by the stove, boiling water and heating up spaghetti sauce. He put the sauce in simmer and turned to look at the guest, whom pretended to watch the TV. When he turned back to his water, she continued to watch him and the TV at the same time. He broke the spaghetti strands and put them into the water, all while stirring sauce. He moved to his left and opened the cabinet above his head; he pulled out two bowls if she did change her mind.

The water boiled and he took it off the heat and off to the side; he took out the strainer and poured the water out into it, keeping the spaghetti strands in the pot. He took his bowl, and as he looked back, her bowl and put two scoops into each, layering the top of each bowl with sauce. He picked them both up and walked into the living room; he smiled as he handed her the second bowl.

"Eat up, alright? You can sleep in the guest room for tonight; that's the second door to the left. Mine is across the way. Only come get me if there's an issue at hand, sound good? Good," he said, starting to walk to his room. "I'll eat in my room so you can have access to the tele. Oh, and when you're done, put the bowl into the sink. I don't have a dishwasher yet, and I'm not going to get one any time soon; I have to wash everything by hand, but that's my life." He reached his door and nodded good night to her as he walked in and shut the door.

* * *

The roosters always wake up the farmer, but not the alarm clock just to the right of the fighter pilot, though. It could buzz and ring without him waking up; he has to though, for today was the day. The park opens up and he has tickets mainly for the shuttle ride, which is like Space Mountain without the real ride. The CEO is very creative; no one can deny the fact with the little rocket roller coaster that only goes around the track, shaped as a circle from entrance of the station to the end, and then the ride is over. Yet, the fighter pilot does not care, he, before the war, dreamed of being an astronaut. This ride would be the closest he can get to the outer space experience.

He tossed over to his side so he was facing the outside first, then to the inside without opening his eyes. He could feel just the pillow on his face at first, and then the nimble fingers as they gently rested on his back. His eyes shot open and saw the girl from last night.

"What are you doing in my bed?" He said as he shot from the bed. "You were told to sleep in the guest room. And, well, that's just indecent. What if I slept naked or something; come on, Monica, think for once, alright?" He walked over to his dresser and she sat up.

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Ed?" She asked with a snicker. He pulled his turtle neck over his head and inserted his two arms. "Or are you just surprised because it was the first time sleeping with a girl." He ignored her remarks and put one leg into his pants then the other. He withdrew the belt from his dresser and wrapped it around the loops of his pants. Just buckling his belt, he turned to her and shook his head.

"Let's go, get up. We have a park to go to," he started as he reached down, grabbing the sheet. "Get up or I'll flip you out of bed." She stuck out her tongue and he pulled, but she came with the sheets and pulled him down to the bed.

"Only if I can sleep with you again tonight, will I get out today," she swore with a Pinkie Promise. Childish in his eyes, but it served the purpose. "Alright! Meet me at the front of the bus stop in five minutes. I need to go get a change of clothing."

"I thought you locked your keys in your apartment..."

"You would hope I did," she teasingly said, winking at him. She hopped up from the bed and strode out of the room with a slight skip. He remained in the bed and put his head into his hands.

She left his room and his apartment; she took two steps and turned to her right. Before her was the decorated outside of her apartment; streamers and deflated balloons from the party two months ago along with the withered plant and name tag on the door.

"O. Triggs," she read aloud. A shiver ran down her back, but she shook it off; it was just her imagination running wild again. She patted her pocket and realized, she really did leave her keys in her apartment. Scrabbling, she ran down the stairs and out the apartment building's double doors; she just had to get to the store of buy some freshener or deodorant and she's be good. Best of all, the store is right behind the bus stop.

She sprinted down the street and turned right; the second store was the mart and she entered with three minutes left to spare. She ran up the beauty supply aisle and up the cash register, two minutes remaining. She paid for them, put them on and walked outside; she had more than a minute remaining. The wind blew and the birds chirped on the nice, almost spring day.

She turned her head and saw her neighbor walking down the street towards her; the bus crept up on her while she stared and honked its horn. She jumped and nearly slipped on the water at her feet.

"You ok, Monica?" Edward asked and she nodded, boarding the bus before he could see how embarrassed she was. She went down three rows and sat on the right at the window; he sat in the aisle seat but leaned in toward her. The bus rumbled and shook on its way down the black as night pavement. The turn signal emitted a blood-red color against the pavement; the early morning sun gave way and hid the turn signal in its rays.


	7. A Fire Fighter's Morning

The roosters always wake up the farmer, but the alarm clock doesn't wake up the fire fighter. He's a heavy sleeper, not even a trumpet in his good could wake him up, though, the only thing that wakes him up is the smell of the burning flesh and the warmth of the blazes. He had forgotten to take out the roast again, and now it was burning the skin and meat off the bone.

He scurried off the couch, dropping the remote and knocking the batteries out of it, and ran to the kitchen. Black fumes emitted from the oven and covered the ceiling. He threw on the oven mitt, using the Lord's name in vain as he pulled out the silver oven pan. It slipped, more like he threw it, out of his hands and to the stove top. As he stared down at it, he began to curse silently to himself.

That was his meal for tonight after he got home from the park. Now he had to find something else in his house to eat; for a fire fighter, he made less than minimal wage due to his greedy boss. He looks through his pantry and only finds a half full box of cereal and a single carton of crackers. His pay was supposedly scheduled for last Sunday, but his boss refused the bill and used it to pay for his own debts. This was the fifth time this year his boss had done that to him.

What could he do, though, it's not like he could go up to his boss and tell him straight out that he grew tired of his shit and demand for his pay while not expecting a fight to break out get him and his boss arrested thanks to his boss's short temper. Yeah, that's a wonderful idea, even better than the one that he had to just lie down on the couch and watch some TV before he had to go out to the park in less than two hours.

His thoughts broke up by the phone as it vibrated in his back pocket. He reached back and pulled it out; he flipped it up and saw who it was. The assistant for the CEO, either calling to confirm his arrival at the monorail or confirmation for their appointment after the visit to the park. She always wants to have these appointments with him, which they always end in either her pushing him down, or vice versa. For the past year or so, it escapes his mind, she asked him to meet with him and expressed her feelings for him.

* * *

_He looked up at the door number and shook his head. He shouldn't do this, yet, it's not something he could just skip. He sighed to himself softly and knocked on the door; immediately after, she opened the door and wrapped her arms around him. Surprised, he was left in shock, but he managed to lift his arms and hug her back._

_"Welcome to my paradise!" She said and moved out of the way so he could enter; he did and she closed the door. She hurried in front of him and motioned to a sofa and a chair. He picked the chair and sat down as he took off his shoes; he watched as she took off her shoes and sat on the couch, watching him. The two sat in silence until he cleared his throat and she spoke._

_"You know, Beck, I've grown to like you for the past six years, and I just need to know," she started as she blushed, "do you like me...?" He started at her, looking into her eyes._

_"Not now, no. I don't really know you, though," he responded and looks around the room, "if we spent more time together, I might, but not as of now."_

_"I feared that," she said silently, "it's a good thing I took that half day then! We can chat, and I can make you dinner, what do you say?" He nodded absently and she stood up slowly. She walk by him and chuckled as her foot brushed past his. She continued to the kitchen and turned to him. "What will it be?"_

_"Anything you want to make, I'm not a picky eater," he responded and looked around more. She giggled and turned back to the stove as he stood up. He walked over to the large cabinet she has in the corner of the room and picked up one of the frames; the photo consisted of two people, Rose and another man. He looked at another photo, and saw the same man; he was in each photo, including one labeled "Best Brother Forever"._

* * *

He pressed the answer button just in time.

"Hey, honey, you ready for today?" The assistant said with a perk to her voice. "Oh, and congrats! It's our one year anniversary! I'm surprised we were able to go this long without her noticing. I can't believe she doesn't even know! I mean, it's not like we hide it or anything, but I'm glad she doesn't know. It'd be hard to work with her if she knew that I stole the love her life," she chuckled softly, "oh, and I forgot to mention yesterday, the park won't open until twelve, and since it's only nine now, we have another hour to talk, maybe?"

"Uh-huh. Happy anniversary to you too... I'm sorry, though, I was going to run down to the station real quick before I had to get ready, you know, as a routine," he replied, bluntly but with a hint of anxiety. "By the way, can we go get something to eat after words? I, kinda... I burnt my dinner and only have cereal and crackers left in the pantry." He looked away and walked over to the couch. He counted in his head. Her responses always came ten seconds after his.

"Sure, honey, whatever you want! Hey, I can make you dinner like the first night we dated. Remember the horrible excuse for an egg?"

* * *

_He looked down at the plate before him and nearly gave in to the laughter. The yolk's of the eggs broke and made a tear shaped trail down the top of the egg; the bacon burned and the toast had scars from the toaster on one side of it. He looked up at her, who positioned herself just across the table. She had taken off her stockings and rubbed her foot against his inner leg while eating the dinner she made. A chill went up his spine, but he forced himself to pick up the fork._

_"You ok, dear?" She asked in a pleasant tone, almost like a loving wife. "Anything I can get you? Salt, pepper, anything?" He shook his head and reached down with one hand, swatting her foot. She lifted the other and rubbed the outside of his legs. "Hehe, silly boy."_

_"Ms. Long, please stop this, it feels weird," he stuttered as he shivered again. She raised the first leg back up and rubs both his legs, continuing to eat the dinner normally. "Please, stop..."_

_"What's wrong, dear? You enjoy feet?" She said teasingly. He shook his head and she sighed as she lowered her feet. "Dear, just admit it so we can skip it, okay?" He started at her and slowly nodded. "Good, now..." She raised her feet again and rubbed his upper thigh._

* * *

"Robert, you there?! Good! I was telling you to just be careful! I don't want you burning yourself anytime soon," she said jokingly. He sighed and lied on the couch. She quickly added: "I didn't mean it like that! L-look, all I'm saying is I want you safe, or me. Okay?"

"I will, I will. I've got a question. What did you want to do that first night we were together?" He asked and could tell she started to clam up on the other end; he smiled and ran his hand through his hair.

"I, uhm... I just wanted to have a night with you, that's all. There wasn't anything else... w-well, I'll see you later then, bye bye!" Before he could respond, she hung up on her end; he closed the phone and shut his eyes.

* * *

_The smoke filled his lungs as he grabbed the hand of a small child. He pulled on the arm and it came toward him without the body attached to it. He dropped to the ground and stared at the burning carousel before him. The screams filled his ears and he stepped closer to the burning body of the child. He could feel the flames near his body and his hands starting to burn._

_"Beck! Get out of there!" One of his squad members said. "You're getting too close to the fire!" He ran up and pulled Beck back; Beck grabbed and threw the squad partner past him and on to the blazing horse. The fire scorched the suit and his body to a crisp as Beck returned to his senses. He back up and looked around; there, around him, was the park from hell._

_He ran over to another ride, The Scrambler, and entered the control booth as the safety locks on the cars broke and launched the different riders on to their heads, cracking it open like a nut on the ground. He managed to turn the ride off, but it was too late; all the riders flew to different parts of the park._

_He was another opportunity to save someone when he looked over at The Glyder starting to swing its hand gliders faster and more out its sockets. He hopped out the booth and ran down the Runway as a young woman looked up at the cart coming closer to her. He jumped and pulled her out of the way just in time, but dropped her from his arms when he felt warm liquid on his body. He stared down at the body before running and accidentally hitting another woman. She falls to the ground and an octopus leg falls at her feet._

* * *

He slowly lifted his eyelids and looked down at his phone. He had slept for two hours and missed six calls from Rose. He rushed to the bedroom and threw clothes from the dirty pile to the bed, found a shirt that went well with his black pants and that didn't smell too bad. He pulled it down over his head and grabbed the car keys off the coffee table on his way out his front down. He hurried down the flight of stairs and waved to the landlord as he got into his Jeep. His turned the ignition and drove out the driveway; he followed the direction off of his GPS and got out of the city.

On the radio, as he was driving down the intersection, Boulevard of Broken Dreams started playing. He tapped the steering wheel with one hand put his right arm out the window as he whizzed by the different types and colours of cars. His hair flew in the breeze, some covering his right dark green eye. The song finished and Machinehead played, but the station started to get static and most of the song grew inaudible except for the beginning.

"Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, breath in," the song repeated until the station cut to complete static. He reached over and fiddled with the knob for the radio, while steering with his knee, and got it to another channel; he turned left off the intersection and down the exit to reach the entrance for the new monorail station. He cruised up and down the rows until he found the parking spot at E48 on the left side of the lot.


	8. Trip of a Lifetime

In front of the monorail tracks stood a girl before the large group of visitors to the park. She smiled to herself, and spoke loud: "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! Today, we revealing the park we here at Funland Amusements had the pleasure of overseeing the construction for. You, the lucky fifty, are the very first to enter the park and see everything before the media does! In a bit, we will be boarding the monorail leading to there; for now, please stay in the waiting area and wait for further instructions, thank you."

She took two steps to her right and six in front of her before turning to enter the main control room. Inside, a secure team of nine technicians overseeing the departure runs smoothly and effectively. The girl walked over to the one further from the door and started talking about the excitement the CEO had.

"If anything happens here, it'll all be on to you, got me?" She said and he nodded in response. To make sure he did understand, she drove her finger into his chest. "Good."

"Ms. Long! I need you out here, like, now! I'm having an issue with one of the pedestrians inside the lobby," said a security guard, as the logo on his shoulder pointed out. Rose footed her way into the doorway and out of the control room.

"Alright, what's the matter?" She asked, arrogance was strongly presence in her voice. In the lobby, the group circled around a single guy with blank pants that could distract and a scowl everyone shivered from.

"Do you not see him? He's trying to sneak into the park; poor bastard, and that were with no sympathy! Kick him out and let us board already!" Cried out one of the pedestrians from the inner rim. He continued: "What are we even waiting for?! Everyone is here, aren't we?" Chatter rose among the group. "I say we force them to let us in, after we kick this poor pile of cheap shit out of here!"

"Whom are we throwing out?" A voice rose above the chatter and silenced the rest of the group. Heads turned to see the silhouette against the doorway, most shocked to see it was of a young woman. The doors closed behind her and the silhouette gave way to the neon colours hidden partly behind a solid black coloured suit jacket and the most identifiable face in the city.

Voices kicked up again, but now it was about the clothes the CEO was wearing. The neon took many back, others by the fact she didn't look like she would in the magazines they often picked up to skim through but ended up reading every article.

"Well? Either you speak up, or no one is going anywhere. We will wait here until someone, anyone, speaks up for the rest." She said again. One coughed and another kicked their feet; both echoed through the silent lobby. She walked around the side of the room with the door leading to the control room and pulled Rose a little off to the side. "Well? Who are they targeting?"

"Uhm... it's, B-Beck, ma'am. He's right in the middle of the crowd." Rose replied as she weakly lifted a finger to the man; the latter stared at the two, both scared slightly and excited greatly. He waved slightly, once, and then stared down at the ground.

"Robby! Good for you to come," Kelly exclaimed as she ran up to him. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled close; he mimicked the actions as he stared past her to her assistant. "Are you ready for a day of amazing fun? Or are you gonna be another disappointment like that one night," she followed up with a giggle and a quick elbow.

"Yeah... nah! I'm ready to have fun, I even brought a pair of shorts with me to change into need be," he replied in a mimicking way. "What are the neon clothes for? You planning of letting go for once? Or is that just an act?" She laughed and gently punched his shoulder.

"I'm letting go! Nothing today will hinder me in any way, but that of knowing what it feels like to relax!" She said and patted his shoulder. "Get along now, I need to find my man in red armor." She pushed past him and he stared forward at the assistant. He just shrugged but she turned with a glimmer from her eye towards the door to go back inside.

He quickly pushed his way through the crowd now reforming a full circle until he managed to find his way through to her, softly saying when he did reach the door: "Rose, wait, I wanna talk with you."

She stopped and turned towards him, pushing him back. "No! Can you please leave me alone for now..? I thought we agreed on not showing affection to any other guy or girl," she said tearing slightly.

"I can't help what she does around or to me! I wasn't going to hug her until she hugged me!" He replied loudly but quieted when he saw they were drawing everyone's attention. "I mean..."

"That's like saying you weren't going to kiss her until she kissed you, then you go and fuck her!" She exclaimed before he put his hand over her mouth and pulled her over into the corner from sight. She struggled slightly before blushing and stopping.

"Look, I only have affections for you, okay? No other girl could take your place, even if you would leave me," he softly remarked. She pushed him away, again, as she crossed her arms.

"I'm supposed to believe it?" She shook her head as he pulled her close and nibbled gently on her ear. She squeaked softly, starting to shiver. "H-hey, d-don't do that..."

He smirked and rubbed the top of her head. "Poor baby, getting affectionate just from her ear. Maybe we should show the world how you look when you're getting turned on, sound good?"

"N-no!" Her cries were muffled when he put his lips on to hers. She ceased her cry and kissed him back; he broke the kiss and pulled her back out into the open.

* * *

In the control room, eight of the nine scientists chatted about the appearance the CEO made, making jokes about how she must have gotten here right from her boyfriend's house, when the tenth member of the team burst through the door. He had his morning coffee in his right hand and a pastry in his left, sporting the "Blue Devils" hat hanging from his belt line.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late guys! That morning commute, huh?" He said jokingly, but the others had unamused looks on their faces. "Tough crowd..." he remained silent afterwords and walked back towards his wheelie chair.

"Mr. Nellis, what have I told you about bringing coffee in here?" The boss asked from his corner, overlooking everyone else.

"I'm sorry, boss! I just needed it to stay awake on the way here." Nellis replied, only to put the cup on top of his computer monitor.

"Just finish it and hurry up, I wanna get the meeting underway," the boss grunted as he stood up, "alright, people, let's get this started. Team A, raise your hands." Half, not including the boss or his assistant, of the members rose their hands; most hands went back down as quickly as they went up. "Good, and Team B?" The other half raised their hands.

"Listen carefully, understand? The train is one long car, which is enough to hold more than seventy people if given the right arrangements. Also, the train's connected by two different receivers so if the first set of wheels give out, the second would keep it moving. If both, for an accident that shall never happen, come undone, then the train will stop altogether and we will have to help them out," the boss finished with a long pause, staring right at Nellis whom had his hand up high. "Ugh, yes, Nellis?"

"Would it be possible for the train to crash or even be damaged if gotten into a derailment?" He asked, and the boss put his hand to his chin.

"Good question, and no. A simple crash not be enough force to cause damage to the trains," the boss finished again with a pause and then a nod. "That's all, and remember your jobs. Check the wheels and tell anything that happens."

Nellis nodded back and turned around completely, unaware the cup of coffee he had on the computer monitor was light enough that the wind cause by the spinning chair pushed back. It had fallen behind the desk completely and the lid had popped off. The coffee traveled down the wires, searching for a source of energy for its big moment.

He searched everywhere, someone must have picked it up or thrown it away. It would really, as he drank all of its contents, at least he thinks he did. Ignoring it, he reached down and felt around for the power switch for the extension cord. The trailing coffee along the hardwood floor was inches from the extension cord.

* * *

"Alright, everyone! Time to board the train and leave towards the future! First, however, I would just like to thank Robert Beck for saving me seven years ago," Kelly said, standing at the very front of the crowd just before the entrance to the monorail cart. Beck idly smiled and looked around; he heard a cough and the warmth of a cigarette behind his ear.

"If he didn't, then we wouldn't be staying here for the opening of AstroPast. And you all were about to throw him out because he looked poorer. Anyway, without a further ado, I'd like to start boarding now," she continued as she moved out the way, "One at a time, please, and no pushing, Children and women can sit in the seats and men can stand."

The crowd flocked in, women and children took the seats lining the walls the men grabbed the metal bars hanging overhead. A crackle came from the communicator overhead as Kelly took the speaker off the wall.

"Alright, everyone! Who's ready for a trip of a lifetime?" She asked and smiled at the faces before her. She had done it; she successfully her dream park and not an accident yet.

"I am! I am!" One of the little boys said one of the little boys whose father wore a sailor suit.

"That's great! When I count to three, I can you all to say Blast Off, alright?" She asked and all cheered. She looked over at the small ignition button hanging on the hall, gently pressing it while saying one aloud.

* * *

"That's the signal men! Fire up the engines!" The boss yelled out at the team, who frantically scrambled on the keyboard and control panel. Lights flashed and all electricity went out; the only lightly was the sparks coming from the towers supporting the mainframes for the user interface.

"Nellis! What did you do?!" The boss yelled out again, trampling over the small leg of the wheeling chair. He fell down straight on to the floor and busted open his nose; he gripped the ground and moved his feet until he was on the again. He could hear the clumsy nerd in the corner with the sparks.

"Shit, shit!" Nellis cried out as the coffee spread even more on the hardwood floor. The room filled with the blinking red of the emergency light and the yellowish sparks from the towers.

* * *

Kelly didn't have time to react. The train flew off the station faster than a rocket and made its way down the tracks. The tunnel turned the car black and the wheels, under the speed the car was traveling, popped off; the car was running on only two good front wheels and two stubs for wheels in the back. The tracks lowered themselves like they would upon inspection day and the front wheels, not being completely screwed on correctly due to the faulty metal used in the construction, popped off as well. The car was now traveling with two stubs; making sparks along the bottom as the tracks rubbed up against it.

"Everyone, you must hold on tightly. I don't know what is happening now, but I'm sure the people in the control room are trying to fix it as we speak!"

The back of the first car started to creak and everyone in the back of the car stared before caved in. The second car crashed into it, crashing down straight into the bottom of the car; the second car crushed several women, children, and a man with a red suit jacket. His head cracked open and his body flew out of the train from the wheel overtop of him. Blood covered the sides and the roof of the car; some even managed to hit Kelly's face and she screamed.

She saw the wheel starting to rumble on its axel and a rat-looking man at the same wheel. The top metal piece on the wheel shot forward into the man's stomach just as the wheel shot forward cutting the man's neck in half; his body fell right on top of Kelly's body. She tried to kick it off but the second car pushed down on the first and the two started traveling towards the back.

"Dad! Help me!" The same little boy from earlier called out. The man in a sailor suit ran after his son and jumped to to pull him out of the rotating stub of a wheel. The man, nor anyone else, didn't know that the tracks underneath the first car switched and the back drifted into the inspection lane; as it rose on both lanes, the second car backed off but the support beam attacked its victim by suprised by cutting the car into two sides, crushing him at the waist. His top half fell right in front of his son and Kelly.

The only people left in the front half were, namely, Beck, Rose, and the lower body of the sailor, but the rest of the riders were strangers to them. Together they saw the back half of the car between the thick support beams until the fourth; all they could see was a small smoke cloud and an explosion on the other side of the wall. Beck looked to his left and saw the sun shining down onto them. A man with a camera tried to lean out the window to escape the car; his neck strap got caught on the broken sill and left him dangling. He pushed himself out of the strap and tried to grab the camera, but it slipped out of his hands and he fell down onto his head on the ground below; his head spilled blood, squirting it onto the base of the beam. An Impala, unable to slow itself down, ran over his body and continued into the beam. It began to slowly leak blood from the car door and gasoline from the tank. The gasoline traveled down to the train car as the engine caught fire.

Faulty metal and the force of the explosion at the base snapped the beam and the car plummeted down to the concrete below. Beck looked about, he could feel the blood drift down his head. Before him, a girl held an older looking man close to him, the latter laid limp and his neck at an unreachable angle. Behind them was an uniformed man who held the jugular in his neck, stabbed from his pocketknife; he slid down the wall as his blood flooded the area around him.

Beck could only see one familiar face among the five survivors, including himself, still inside the car. He slowly stood up, wiped the blood continuing down his forehead, and held out his hand for Rose. She grabbed it, but her knee gave in and she fell back to the floor. Instincts seem to always kick in when most needed, Beck threw her arm around his neck and hoisted her up. He, along with two helpers, managed to get Rose out of the car from the emergency exit on the bottom. Beck ran ahead to secure a spot for Rose to sit; he stopped when he heard an explosion behind him and he turned to see what it was.

His eyes widened as the flaming body came flying at him; he ducked upon instinct, and the body hit the ground behind him. The smell of burning flesh and burning gasoline put him a trance like no other. He dropped to his knees and stared as the fire from the Impala snaked its way to the already burning train car; the bottom of the car, unwittingly mentioned to anyone on it, brimmed with gas to secure transportation between stations in an orderly fashion. The flames hit the tank under the train car and the girl inside, still holding the older man close to her, engulfed into a blaze of life; she screamed and banged on the windows, ignoring the emergency exit above her. Her flesh fell off her arms first, then there was a blaze of light from the train car as parts of it flew in multiple directions. A small fragment of the window the girl pounded against struck Rose in the back of the head; part of the glass exposed itself through her mouth, as it shined a light red against the ground.

Beck gulped as he could feel the other drivers around him exit their cars and bolt. It was his fate, as he figured, to burn like he let all those others back some seven years ago. He felt the warm blaze drawing closer like the predator with its prey. He kneeled there, ready for his fate, but only received the words from before.

* * *

"I'd like to start boarding now," called out Kelly from the front of the crowd. The cigarette against Beck's neck sent a shiver down his spine and he reacted in a way he didn't think was possible. He cried out as his voice cracked and his arms shot out; he pushed the woman in front of him down. The man wearing a bomber jacket next to her grabbed Beck by the collar and shook him.

"Why would push my friend down like that?!" The man cried then pushed him away, reaching down to the girl below him. "You alright, Monica?" She nodded and stood up with aid from the man. The crowd, with Monica and the man with her in the front, circled around Beck like vultures circling their prey.

"Don't get on... Don't get on the train! I beseech you!" Beck cried out and tears came to his eyes when he saw the little boy. "It's going to crash and kill everyone on it. Please, listen to me." People laughed and back of the crowd started entering the train car. Beck cried out again, grabbing Rose and Kelly and pulling them back to the front near him. The security guard on duty reached for the handcuffs as Beck threw his arm out again; he punched the man in a sailor suit before him who led his son by the hand. The sailor let his son go and pulled his arm back. His fist nailed Beck in the jaw; the latter fell to the floor, withering in pain.

"Alright, that's enough! All of you," exclaimed the security officer, his stomach heaving as he yelled, "the three of you are coming with me." The officer reached out to handcuff the three when a man in a red suit jacket grabbed the officer's arm.

"Sir, please don't do something like that, they aren't trying to pick a fight or anything." The man in the red suit jacket said, as the officer pulled his arm out from the other's grasp and threw the one cuff onto his arm.

"Adkins! Let James go, now," growled Kelly from behind Beck. She pushed free and pulled James over to the other side. "Manny, let's go, we don't need to let something as stupid as this bother us." Her words halted the rat-looking man at the entrance to the train car. He turned, looked back, and growled at her like at the office; but was pushed to the side by an older looking man with a younger girl.

"What's the hold up out here?" The older man asked as he stepped out of the car, pulling the girl with him. "Are we going or not; because if we're not…" His words silenced by screech of the train car, blasting off like the rocket it was molded after.

Beck fell to his knees; he thought to himself: "_I failed… I actually failed, my one job, and I blew it._" He looked around at the people in the lobby with him. The cries of the sailor were thin in his ears, drowned out by the crash of the monorail car. The other nine around him stared at one another, too scared to do anything. Their heads shifted to the camera flashes near the edge of the platform. Sirens filled the space around them, and, well, let's say the curtain's cast down upon that dreadful hour.


	9. Investigation of a Death

"Now, tell me exactly how you knew."

Beck played with his fingers, already anxious. Even the next morning, he didn't know how to explain it; he just saw it, like he was actually there. He moved his lips but no voice came out. He stared at the man in front of him grimly. The man tapped his pen as if he already knew the answer, but wanted to hear the excuse of someone being accused of it; then he thought: "How was it that a boring old fire fighter like me be found as a suspect in the crash?" He moved his lips again, making a slush of words.

"I saw it," was all he said before his voice was lost to the darkness inside him. The man placed his pen down and started tapping his foot. "Listen to me, alright? I don't know how the hell I knew it was going to crash, but I saw it… I felt the fire of the explosion against me, burning my skin right off."

The man sighed and shook his head. "Same story as before. What I don't get is that you actually saw it happen, and you're suddenly back before the train car even takes off? Coincidence or not; you saved a couple of lives, didn't you?" Beck nodded and the man smiled. "Call it an act of good will, but they should thank you for saving them; though, I doubt they'll be thanking you any time soon…"

Beck stared at the man and watched as the former stood up from the table. He walked to the one-way mirror and shook his head. "I'm afraid to tell you, but you messed with Death's plans. He's going to come to get the survivors, one by one. Then, according to what you described, he's going to come for you at the end. The worst part about it, you can't die until the person before you dies or someone intervenes with their death."

Beck raised an eyebrow and laughed; he never believed in the supernatural or shit like that. "That's a good one; can I add something to that thought? Let's say I'm about to die and I see what happens, can I change what I do and survive?"

"No, Death will kill you eventually, even if you try to run from your fate. Jump out of the way of a speeding car or not get that ceiling fan installed," the man paused for a moment then continued, "you're going to die in the end. That's where I come in, though. It's my responsibility to keep you safe."

"How do you know all of this?" Beck asked worriedly. "Are you a demon or ghost?"

"No, boy, but I've been in the same shoes as you are now. I was lucky enough to survive by locking up the other unlucky soul that scheduled to die before me. Now that she's safe and not going to die any time soon, my life will never die." He answered with a smirk. "Say what you want, but I'm the only source of help you've got now. You just have to do something for me: tell me who dies and in what order."

"The very first person…" Beck shuddered as he spoke. "The first person sat in the very back of the car and… when it caved in, there were multiple people… There was so much blood flooding the floor, but there was one person I remember clearly. He wore a red suit jacket, and his blood matched the jacket too easily."

"So it's a man in a red suit jacket? I don't think we will be able to match him with anyone just based off of that. The best bet is the name; what was his name?" the man said meekly.

"It's… J-James, James something. I don't know his last name," Beck said slowly as he stared at the man before him. The latter sighed.

"That's not good enough. You must think harder! What else was he wearing? Did he have any notable features: like a limp or a twitch; this could help lead us to the first victim," the man stopped suddenly and stared out the window. He thought about how much help he was to the effort some time ago; images of all the bodies flooded into his mind and he clenched his fists.

The first image into his mind was his best friend's mangled body; the second was the older woman he would have loved to have as his grandma. The last image, however, made him shudder; it was his girlfriend right before the crane hit. If only he had pulled out with her, then she'd be alive now.

"Sir!" Beck called out over top of the man's body. The man sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck; it happened again. "Do you need anything? Like water or an ambulance?" The man shook his head and got up to his knees.

"No, but I don't know if you're going to last if we don't find the first victim. If he dies, there's no stopping the other deaths from happening." The man responded as he put his hand against the glass wall next to him. "It will be you and me verses Death, you know. Now, is there anything notable about him?" The man led Beck back to the table and sat him down.

"Oh, uhm, yeah! His hands were all black and there were spots of oil-looking stains on his jeans. The only thing that was decent looking was his jacket," Beck paused as he remembered back to the accident, and then continued, "and his beard was scraggy like mine."

"Did he have any recognition with someone, or even anyone, on the train? Did anyone know him at all?" The man asked and Beck nodded.

"I think, at least. Kelly, the CEO, knew his name for some reason. He doesn't seem the kind of guy she would really get to know," Beck laughed a little at how she acted, "she's all for the rich or good-looking guys. I know her… Well, I saved her once before by accident."

"Tell me, was it at that burning park seven years ago? I remember taking her statements; poor girl, thinking it was because of some boy named Neil, or something. I believe she even hired him a second time for the technical work of the train," the man said. He shook his head when he saw the shocked look on Beck's face. "What's wrong?"

"The technician… Was it, perhaps, Nellis?" Beck asked; he remembered back to the man entering at the same time as him. He looked down at the name tag and the name **Nellis Grenburg** stuck to his mind.

The man simply shook his head: "Yeah, that's the name. Apparently, he's a clumsy fool, he and his whole family. Hell, his father was the one to cause the disaster last year; the disaster I was in," he said and started to tear, "if only I didn't have that job interview, then I'd never be on this damn list; but you, you are given a chance to survive. Don't worry, Mr. Beck, I'll make sure you beat this; or my name isn't Jay Ross."

* * *

Why couldn't they get the lights to work again? It's pretty ironic; a miner who is afraid of the dark and who is claustrophobic. James usually has a company issued flashlight, whose bulbs burn out instantly, or a light dangling overhead; they had to cut off the electricity to the tunnel in order for him to "investigate," as his boss calls it.

James had to go back to the tunnel to investigate if there was any foul play or of the sort. He wouldn't know, of course, what he should really look for, but his boss gave him the job to finish; he is a man of his word, after all.

His job was to go down straight from the station and see how the monorail crashed and why. He jumped off the platform and shined his flashlight down the tunnel. He still hates the dark after the last time he had to investigate alone. It was too dark last time and too dark this time, yet something deep down in his gut pushed him forward to the tunnel.

He took two steps into the trench and could hear electricity crackling from the wires that ran along the walls. He knew most of the wires were already cut and would kill him if they made contact, but he placed his sweaty palm against the side of the tunnel and ventured forth. His hand neared an unexposed wire when his belt vibrated and yanked him from the wall. James stood, more so bent over, as he tried to catch his breath. He reached and pulled off the small communicator from his waist and held it to his ear.

"'Ello, this is James... Oh! Hello, boss! What's that?" James asked into the communicator as he shone the flashlight around the tunnel. "No further than fifty feet from the platform? I can't ... no, you're- whatever." He closed it when he realized that the connection was lost. No more than fifty feet, but that's not far enough to investigate. He would need to, at least, go the full one hundred feet from the platform before he could actually begin to see what the issues were.

* * *

"Hey Frank, what are you doing in here? Aren't you supposed to be at home and resting?" A man asked his fellow colleague; the former had his lab coat (with the small ketchup stain on the left pocket) overtop of the black dress shirt, which was tucked in, and his tan company pants that read "QuickTech" across the waist line. The other, however, had his brown casual shirt hiding the company logo and often tugged on the bottom of his lab coat to eliminate the wrinkles lined in the breasts.

"Ah, n-no. I came in a-anyway." Frank stuttered; he smiled when he finished. "I wanted t-to make su-sure the investigation goes well." He moved over to the small window overlooking the loading platform. He stopped tugging on his coat long enough for his coworker to see his hands shaking.

"Frank, are you positive you're good? You seem to be a little..." his voice trailed off, and he shook his head. "Nevermind, it's all up in my head. So, how's the wife?"

"She's fine!" Frank snapped, but quickly shook his head. "I mean, yeah, she's cool," he paused for a second, "why do you ask? Got some beef with her or something, Mr. Kevin Napili?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that, Frank. I was just being nice." Kevin said as he shook his head. "Why did you come in any way?" He turned completely around from the control panel and stared at his colleague. "Boss told you to stay home yesterday and he said he wasn't going to let you come back until you cured of whatever it was you had."

"Yeah, well, he called me and told me to get my ass in so you could get some rest of your own. Working all that time is not good for your health, you know. You could develop insomnia or sleep apnea, or something like that." Frank turned to face his friend with that old smile of his, nearly grinning from ear to ear and showing the yellow teeth he loved.

Neither man said a word until Kevin stood up and walked over to the door. "Alright," he said, "don't anything stupid now, alright?" Frank nodded as he walked out and across the platform. He stopped at the set of the double doors. "Something wasn't right with Frank today," he said to himself, "Maybe I should-." He silenced himself when he realized he forgot his briefcase on the floor underneath his station.

He turned around and walked back across the platform to the control booth. Without opening the door, he could hear the grunts of the other technician from inside. He shot the door open and saw the latter sticking the needle into the inner side of his elbow. Frank had no idea of his surroundings as the liquid inside the tube emptied into his blood stream. His friend rushed over and grabbed the needle without thinking; the needle cut the vein inside his arm and the skin around the injection point.

Frank grabbed his arm as he pushed the other man away. The latter stumbled over his own two feet and fell into the piping along the wall. His head hit the metal lining holding the pipe from bursting as his arm turned the valve; his unconscious body slumped along the lower pipes but landed on the communicator his boss gave him to communicate with "the man in the tunnel," as his boss called it.

* * *

James's communicator buzzed again, but the audio turned on without him pressing the button. It was static at first, just static; then the voices came on from the other side.

"Wake up, Kevin, wake up." Someone said.

James never heard the voice before, but he was doing his job and could afford no distractions. He turned around from what he thought was the wall and started into the open abyss of darkness. As he reached down in his pocket, he heard the voice talk even more.

"I'm so sorry Kevin. Wait, C-bo- Di-xi-?" The man said with the static overpowering the later part of his sentence.

James ignored it again. The damn thing was always malfunctioning. For all he knew, it could a soap opera interfering with his wavelengths. He pulled out the lighter and gulped. He hated the darkness and the lighter never helped much, but it was too late to go back and get something else to use. He flipped the cap and pressed the lighter's ignition; nothing was happening at all. He even shook the lighter to make sure there was fluid in there; full tank as always.

"Oh shit, oh shit." The man on the other end said.

James could tell his voice had panic in it, but he paid no mind to it. He tried the ignition once more as he heard the grim words from the man: "carbon dioxide."

* * *

Frank stared at his friend as he heard an explosion coming from the communicator attached to his waistline. He turned and started at the tunnel; he saw little embers littering the ground further down and the wide eyes on the man's face as it flew towards the window of the control booth. Scared shitless from multiple things and still grasping his arm, Frank shot out of the room towards the double doors at the other end of the platform.

As he exited the station, he heard sirens in the distance as they sped closer to him. He ran faster than he ever had and got to his car. He sprung into it and pressed down hard on the gas pedal; he left via the ramp and never looked into the rear view mirror.


End file.
